Chapter 62: Bond’s Goodwill

As William stepped off the helicopter, he approached Mrs. M for a brief hug and greeted Bond with a nod. "How was last night? The beautiful lady didn't get hurt, did she?"

"Everything went fine. Took down three, captured one. Thanks for the gun," Bond replied with a smile.

"No problem. We're on the same team," William smiled back at Bond.

Mrs. M, however, was less jovial. "William, why didn't you report your actions to me? How dare you operate without my authorization, and using such heavy firepower as an AWP at Miami Airport? Do you have any idea how much effort it took to clean up that mess?" she demanded sternly.

William sighed and shook his head apologetically. "I'm sorry, ma'am. The operation was authorized by the Security Council. And thank you for cleaning up. I thought Gareth would handle it."

Mrs. M's face showed her disdain. "Those bureaucrats always think they know better. Who do they think they are? Even when I report to Downing Street, the Prime Minister is always polite. But these desk jockeys, constantly telling me what to do. God, I miss the days before the '90s, when it was just the Northern Bear against the Bald Eagle. There weren't so many people trying to undermine MI6. Do they think MI6 can function without me? A bunch of idiots," she complained.

William and Bond exchanged knowing looks, both silently acknowledging that they had expected this reaction. Times had changed; it wasn't feasible for anyone to act entirely on their own whims anymore.

Mrs. M turned her attention back to William. "Alright, William, I assume you're already aware of Le Chiffre's situation. Last night, the Skyplane test flight was successful. Today, the company's stock will surely surge, and Le Chiffre stands to lose hundreds of millions of dollars. He doesn't have that kind of money to lose. This morning, we received word that Le Chiffre has organized a high-stakes poker game in the Republic of Montenegro. A ten-player game with each player bringing ten million dollars. You can wire another ten million if you lose the initial amount. The total pot could reach two hundred million dollars. I've heard that you are the best at poker among us. We need you to participate in this game," she explained.

William nodded. Of course, his poker skills were top-notch. Even Bond couldn't last a few hands against him. Such an opportunity to make money was naturally appealing to him.

With a grin, William said, "So, Le Chiffre is gambling away his clients' money? Haha, if his clients find out he lost all their money, he's going to have a very bad time. Ma'am, do you want me to just bankrupt him, or are we going for a more permanent solution?"

"We need you to win the game. Le Chiffre doesn't have much money left. If he can't win, he'll be desperate. In that case, we can offer him asylum in exchange for everything he knows," Mrs. M replied with a smile, clearly pleased at the prospect of Le Chiffre's misfortune.

"No problem. When does the game start?" William asked.

"Tomorrow evening at 6 PM. We've arranged for you to replace a participant from a certain organization. I assume funding won't be an issue for you?" Mrs. M looked at William with a knowing smile.

She knew that William had just received a substantial amount of money from selling his game.

"Of course, there's an issue. Why should I use my own money to do the government's work? What if I lose? Who's going to cover my losses?" William protested.

"But if you win, the two hundred million is all yours. Maybe you'll have more funds to play with on the Nasdaq index," Mrs. M replied with a sly smile, knowing about William's recent embarrassing predictions.

"Damn, I need to kill the eavesdropping rat. I'm now a global laughing stock. But that's fine, we'll see. When I make a huge profit in the market, I'll love to see the expressions on those who mocked me. Maybe I should send them some lemons, just to add to their sourness. That would be amusing," William said with a determined look.

"And what about protection? You're not sending anyone to look after me? What if Le Chiffre's goons come after me? He's not a good guy; he has a bunch of mercenaries under him," William added.

"We know you have a team of elites at your disposal, and I'm aware of your capabilities, William. Being able to take down Bond and three armed special agents barehanded is no small feat. We don't have many in MI6 who could do that. Besides, you're going under your own name. We can't be associated with this operation. This way, when we approach Le Chiffre, it will be easier. According to our intel, Le Chiffre still thinks it was the Americans who foiled his plans," Mrs. M explained, smiling as she thought about having a scapegoat for the operation.

William smirked. "Alright, I'll use my own money. But, ma'am, you must provide me with some intel support. I know nothing about Montenegro."

Mrs. M nodded. "No problem. Bond will accompany you and provide support from the shadows."

"Then I'm off. I'll head to Montenegro tomorrow. Bond, we'll meet at the Royal Casino. Goodbye, ma'am. Goodbye, Mr. Bond," William said, as he boarded the helicopter back to Miami.

After William left, Mrs. M turned to Bond. "What do you think of William Devonshire? Is he a threat to us?"

Bond thought for a moment before responding. "He's already a threat. He can do whatever he wants, as long as he has evidence in the end. We can't control him anymore. Ma'am, times have changed. Look at what we're dealing with now—drug lords, corrupt nobility, and terrorists are our main adversaries. Maybe we can channel William Devonshire's energy towards these targets. He might actually enjoy it."

"You're suggesting that William Devonshire isn't interested in political affairs? How could someone so young be so shrewd?" Mrs. M asked, surprised.

"Absolutely, ma'am. He's a smart man. Just look at his attitude towards women. He has many indiscretions, which sends a clear signal that he's not interested in politics. The Devonshire family is down to just him. Staying away from politics is beneficial for him. He's wealthy and will inherit a noble title. You know the current state of the English nobility as well as I do," Bond affirmed.

Mrs. M thought for a moment and nodded. "Maybe you're right. We could try to set up a special unit for him in the W Division, handling things we don't want to deal with. Maybe even spin his unit off to exclusively tackle the drug traffickers and armed criminals."

The more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea. Facing William always gave her a sense of unease—an instinct honed over decades in the intelligence field. She didn't want William focusing on MI6.

If William could have known Mrs. M's thoughts, he might have hugged her out of relief. He was genuinely fearful of bureaucratic overlords. It was better to stick to what he was allowed to do.

Even if William were as powerful as the Titan with the Infinity Gauntlet, against the might of bureaucratic lords, he wouldn't stand a chance. The bureaucratic gods didn't need to snap their fingers; just a glance, and William would be done for. Better to stay under the radar.

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